


Pull the Strings

by INMH



Category: Rule of Rose
Genre: Angst, Bullying, Drama, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Child Abuse, Implied Sexual Abuse of a Child, Implied pedophilia, Manipulation, Some Spoilers, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-05-20
Packaged: 2017-12-12 09:52:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/810224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INMH/pseuds/INMH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Meg, Diana is true. Except when she isn’t.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pull the Strings

**Author's Note:**

> Uh, just so we're clear? This is a crush in this story. Canonically these characters are probably somewhere between ten and twelve, so this is purely one having a crush on the other.

Sometimes it’s small.  
  
“Meg, find me my crayons?”  
  
Always so innocent, so unassuming. Meg always buckles because she thinks that Diana only ever gives _her_ that look and actually means it. The ones for Hoffman are manipulation; the ones for the other Aristocrats are tinged with cruelty and insincerity.  
  
But for her, for Meg, Diana is true.  
  
[---]  
  
Sometimes it’s big.  
  
“Meg, where has Eleanor put that bird of hers?”  
  
[---]  
  
Meg doesn’t really dislike Eleanor- mostly, anyway.  
  
Eleanor is standoffish, a bit cold, and those are really the only problems Meg has with her. Other than that, Eleanor is quiet and doesn’t argue. She generally doesn’t act like a little brat like the rest, while also more often than not enthusiastically participating in whatever Diana has come up with, and so Meg doesn’t find too much to criticize her about otherwise.  
  
So when Diana has suddenly decides that Eleanor is awful, Meg is a little conflicted at first: No, Eleanor isn’t the best of all best friends (that is Diana’s and Diana’s role alone), but she doesn’t know of anything that Eleanor’s done that would warrant such a verdict.  
  
Still, it’s Diana, and so she just giggles right along with her and doesn’t question it.  
  
[---]  
  
Diana’s smile becomes a grin as they race upstairs, hoping to beat Eleanor and Jennifer to the box. Meg is elated ( _Diana is touching her!_ ) and even more so when Diana leans on her back as they watch from around the corner. “Oh well,” She sighs into Meg’s ear when Eleanor simply drops the bird in the box and steps into the meeting room. “It was interesting, at any rate.”  
  
“She’s a tough one.” Meg agrees.  
  
The squeeze of Diana’s hand on her shoulder is unexpected and utterly welcome before Diana straightens up and sweeps around the corner, tossing a look back at Meg and encouraging her to follow.  
  
Meg hops after her without question, and it is she who slams the door into Jennifer’s face.  
  
[---]  
  
Meg doesn’t like to think too much on the mermaid-incident.  
  
Fortunately, Diana doesn’t seem to realize that it’s her and Eleanor that took the fish, that it was they that stitched it to the doll (Hoffman’s fish, the one he treasures).  
  
Well, they needed a mermaid for this month’s gift, and so they made one (out of the fish Diana was charged with caring for).  
  
And though it pains her to see Diana sobbing as Hoffman chastises her (and paws at her a bit, which makes Meg’s blood boil) and holds her responsible for the whole fiasco (and implies that she won’t be coming to his room to clean anymore).  
  
And when he’s gone, it’s Jennifer that is held responsible for it, not Meg or Eleanor (that’s what she’s good for, the filthy little thing).  
  
Apart from Diana’s distress, Meg has no complaints.  
  
Diana is strong. She will be fine.  
  
[---]  
  
“Diana doesn’t like you.”  
  
Those are fighting words, and if Olivia were not three, Meg might be inclined to slapping to her. The toddler’s words are few and simple, but she has mastered the same mocking tone that she has learned from her elders in her time at the orphanage.  
  
“Stop that.” Meg grumbles, and goes back to replacing some books on the shelf.  
  
“Diana doesn’t _like_ _you_.” Olivia repeats, and through her anger she can tell that Olivia’s having one of her less-than-coherent moments. Sometimes she speaks rather well for her age, while other times she’ll only say a particular sentence over and over again until someone goes mad from it.  
  
But this particular sentence is a little more maddening than most.  
  
“ _Stop it,_ Olivia. Go play with Susan, or maybe Thomas. Whatever you choose, just make sure that it involves _leaving_.” Her voice cracks a little as tears brim in her eyes and her hands shake.  
  
“ _Diana doesn’t like you!_ ”  
  
Meg drops the book she’s holding and stomps over, grabbing Olivia and depositing her outside of the room before slamming the door shut behind her. Right on cue, the little blonde starts howling, and even through the door it’s piercing.  
  
Meg wipes her eyes and stomps back over to the bookcase, more shaken by Olivia’s foolishness than she thinks she should be.  
  
Maybe it’s time she said something.  
  
[---]  
  
 _O Diana, Diana!_  
  
 _Wherefore art thou, Diana?_  
  
 _Are we destined to forever be apart?_  
  
 _I love you with all my heart._  
  
 _Meg_  
  
It’s not quite Shakespeare, but it will do.  
  
[---]  
  
Not long after she leaves the note on Diana’s bed, Meg’s notebook disappears and she panics.  
  
[---]  
  
When Meg finds pages of her notebook and parts of the lover-letter scattered about, she enters a sort of numb state of distraught.  
  
Mary and Sally, sightless eyes staring into nothingness, their stomachs are distended. The dolls actually look like the goats they are modeled after, full to bursting with things they shouldn’t have been eating.  
  
Meg takes a pair of scissors to their stomachs, which have been neatly sewn up from the same act. Her chin quivers as she pulls out pages of her precious notebook and bits of the letter, fingers trembling and vision going blurry.  
  
“Oh, how sad.”  
  
Through the tears she can see the red and brown and knows who it is.  
  
“Mary and Sally must have eaten them. How awful.”  
  
Diana’s tone is perfectly sincere, and when Meg has managed to wipe the wetness from her eyes she sees the older girl smiling as well.  
  
And for the first time, Meg realizes how utterly fake it is.  
  
[---]  
  
Meg weeps bitterly as she pastes her notebook back together and realizes that Olivia- _Olivia_ , of all people- was right.   
  
[---]  
  
Susan comes in at one point during her crying jag. She isn’t certain how long it’s been since it started.  
  
“Come now,” The girl is only five, nearly six years Meg’s junior, and it’s clear she’s trying to mimic the grown-ups. “No need for all that! It can’t be that bad!”  
  
Meg looks up, face streaked with tears, and stares at the younger girl for a moment. Susan is smiling brightly, a little too brightly than one might normally go for when trying to comfort a sobbing person.  
  
All Meg sees in that smile is the same tool that Diana used to win her trust, and so she’s too upset to feel any guilt when she swipes at Susan and screams at her to get out.  
  
[---]  
  
Meg cries, and cries, and cries.  
  
Eventually, it starts to slow.  
  
That’s when Diana comes.  
  
An apology never passes her lips, because Diana is not someone who apologizes. With her newfound clarity, it occurs to Meg that she’s never really heard Diana give a truly sincere apology to anyone before. Always some flowery, sweet words about how sorry she is, and then a little smirk once the recipient’s back is turned to show that she doesn’t mean it and never will.  
  
“I am _sorry_ , Meg,” Diana coos, and Meg has no doubt that she doesn’t mean it.  
  
But the sad, irrefutable fact is that Meg has no one else who cares. Not really. Diana at least pretends to be her friend most of the time, and being lonely forever sounds a lot more painful than the occasional heartbreak.  
  
So even though it is a pretense to re-secure Meg’s loyalty, Meg buries the knowledge deep, locks it away where she can’t see it, and accepts the apology.  
  
Diana smiles, and Meg knows she doesn’t give a damn if Meg means it or not.  
  
-End

**Author's Note:**

> I think that’s what Meg’s love-letter says in the game. The first two lines and the last are legible, but the third is a little hard to read.


End file.
